


In another life

by Calisi_87



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calisi_87/pseuds/Calisi_87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Where Arya and Gendry flee the war torn Westeros to live a new life in Braavos. One-shot only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In another life

**Gendry**

He hammered away at the raw material before him. With each strike he felt the burn in his muscles, shaping the steel into something that resembled the sword he was commissioned to produce. The heat from the flames licked at his skin, causing a layer of sweat to coat his body. He dipped the sword into the water bucket next to his work station, the hissing sound ringing throughout the forge.  He always felt at ease when he was at the forge. It was the only thing he really understood. It wasn’t complicated, it wasn’t judgemental and it didn’t make him feel anything. Feeling could lead to hope and hope could lead to disappointment when that hope failed. He had grown to not feel such things at such a young age but then she had to come in and make him hope again. She made him feel. Feel things he didn’t know he was ever capable of feeling again. What made it worse was that she didn’t seem to know the effect she had on him. She didn’t know how seeing her smile would make his stomach do flips, or how when another man so much as looked at her a rage would consume him. He was just a stupid bull, too bloody low born for the likes of her. A lady, and not just any lady, a Stark.  Probably the only living Stark. A Princess in all truth, after her brother was declared King in the North. He pounded at the steel again, enjoying the strain on his muscles.

He tried desperately to get the image of her out of his head but it was to no avail. There she lingered like she always did. The grey eyed girl who wasn’t a girl anymore but a woman. He hadn’t meant to see her that way. It was an accident. He had called out before entering the bathhouse and nobody responded. _Why didn’t she respond?_ The room was misty, still filled with the warm steam he supposed was left over from the previous users bath.  He began to undress himself, first kicking off his muddied boots, then removing the soiled tunic that was drenched in his sweat. He began to undo the laces to his breeches but was distracted by the sound of water splashing. Without thinking he had stupidly headed in the direction of the sound and found himself staring at the object of his affection. Her long chest nut hair streamed down her back, clinging to her now sun kissed skin. She made a move to turn around and he ducked out of view. He could still see her through the crack of the wall he hid behind and couldn’t help but want to see more. It must have been the bastard in him to lust for her so much, but his emotions got the better of him and he continued to watch. His eyes roamed over her body hungrily and he felt his cock stiffen immediately at the sight. She was lathering soap over her naked body, starting with her arms, then making her way down over her pert breasts. He groaned internally when he saw her nipples spring to life at the slight touch. Soon her hands ghosted over her flat stomach, but it was the next destination that made him bite down on his hand to stifle the sound that was sure to echo throughout the room. The nest of dark curls lay neatly over her mound and his mind was set a-blaze with how soft and pink she would be beneath them.  It was becoming too much for him and he crawled to where he had left his tunic and boots and ran out into the safety of his forge.

His member was still unbelievably hard and he finished himself in hand at the vision of Arya bathing naked before him. He doesn’t know when things between them changed. When the slip of a girl he once knew turned into this beautiful woman who was constantly on his mind. He wasn’t the only one who noticed though, even the whores tried to lure her into their line of work. Saying that someone as pretty as her shouldn’t be selling cockles or duelling with men, but she always refused. He was thankful for that. The thought of her entertaining men like that made him want to wretch. He knew he never had a chance with her and that one day she would find a man to warm her bed at night, but still he prayed to the old gods and new that the day it happened he wasn’t around. He had to bite back his anger whenever a sailor would try something with her, or some merchant thought he could buy her with pretty trinkets. One night he couldn’t though and ended up breaking a man’s arm for giving Arya’s arse a light tap as she walked passed him. She wouldn’t be Arya if she hadn’t gotten mad at him for defending her honour. It was something she could do herself and she didn’t need some stupid bull to do it for her.

They had been in Braavos for coming onto four years now and had taken on new identities. To everyone else she was Cat and he was simply known as the Bull. They were just two orphans trying to escape the war in Westeros. No-one questioned them and soon they blended in as well as any local. They had lost their accents, speaking fluently in Braavosi and Arya’s pale skin became a golden brown with time. He continued to pound into the steel, so lost in his work that he didn’t notice the lithe figure sneak in through one of the unlocked windows.  

**Arya**

She heard him call out before entering. She should have said something to let him know she was in there but she kept quiet. She was sick of the way he treated her. Like she was in constant need of protection, like she was just a friend, a little sister. She wasn’t a girl anymore and had flowered three years ago but he never noticed. He never looked at her the way she remembered him looking at that girl from the Peach. The one with the yellow hair and big tits. She may not be as busty as that girl was but her breasts had certainly swelled in size over time. She was never one to care about her looks but she had been told by many that she had a pretty face. Pretty enough to be a courtesan and pretty enough to be vied over constantly by sailors and merchants coming in and out of port. She wanted him to see her as a woman. See how she wasn’t that nine year old girl anymore. She knew it was wrong of her but she wanted him to look at her the way other men looked at her.

She could hear the loud thud of his boots smack the floor as he took them off and the rustle of clothing as she presumed he began to undress himself. She turned so her back was facing the entrance to the tubs and ducked under the hot water to wet her hair. It clung to her back and she could feel eyes on her. She couldn’t explain it but she always knew when someone was watching her and right now that someone was Gendry. She smiled to herself. _He hasn’t run out screaming yet_ , she thought _. Interesting_. Testing her limits she slowly twisted her body so she was now facing the entry. Holding a bar of soap in her hand she let the sweet smelling cleanser slide up and down her arms and collarbone. It smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, a sweet smell that she hoped Gendry would like. His eyes were still on her so she proceeded to roll the lather over her breasts. Her nipples were always so sensitive and they hardened instantly at the contact. It didn’t help that she was slightly aroused by the notion of Gendry watching her. She let her hands travel down and around her stomach, ending at her sex. She could feel her lids become heavy with lust but she was soon pulled out of her daydream by the scuffing sound of Gendry retreating. Disappointment coursed through her at the loss of his eyes on her. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill and threw the bar of soap against the wall. Angry at herself for hoping that he would see her as anything other than a little girl took over and she submerged her body in the now warm water to wash away her shame. _What’s wrong with me? Why do you care about a stupid bull headed boy?_ She was warring with herself. _You care because he is Gendry. Because Gendry is different. He is yours as you are his._

She pulled herself out of the tub and dried herself, squeezing the excess water out of her hair. She put on her small clothes and threw on the clean tunic and breeches she had neatly folded waiting for her. Slipping into her boots she grabbed needle, sliding it into the scabbard resting on her hip. Her face was flushed with embarrassment so she swiftly glided by the forge not wanting to bump into him. She paused as she heard a strange gurgling sound come from behind the door. Letting her curiosity get the better of her she peered in through one of the windows and what she saw shocked her. Gendry had his breeches down to his ankles and his cock in hand as he tugged on it violently. He was mostly grunting but when he spilled in his hand he called out her name. Not the name she had now but her true name. Arya. His breathing was laboured and as he looked up she dipped down , leaning her back against the wall. Her heart was racing and that heat in the pit of her stomach began to burn with an intense need. _He wants me_ , she realised. _He wants me the way a man wants a woman. The way he wanted that whore at the Peach_. Feeling bold, she jumped to her feet and gently pushed at the window until it opened. As quiet as a cat she entered the room unnoticed, his focus on the piece of metal in front of him.

She eyed him curiously, he was so enthralled in his work and it left her wondering what exactly he was thinking as he brought the hammer down. He was beautiful, if a man could be described as that. His skin shone in the candlelight and the sleet of sweat that made its way on his body only made him look more magnificent. She hadn’t realised how close she was to him until it was too late. He swivelled his body to face hers, the shock evident on his face. His sapphire blue eyes were wide in surprise, and for a moment they were fixed on her grey. In typical Gendry fashion the gaze soon faltered and he looked at his feet. “Cat what are you doing here?” He sounded pained. 

“I just wanted to say hello,” she replied nonchalantly. “Would you rather I leave?” She could see his adam’s apple bob up and down and noticed how he wore that familiar pained expression of his. Biting her lip, she moved closer to him, enjoying his obvious discomfort at their proximity.

He spun away from her and placed the hammer on the ground. “It’s late Cat, you shouldn’t be here.” His voice was solemn and serious and he continued to avoid making eye contact.

“I know you saw me Bull,” she stated. She stepped towards him, backing him into the wall. “I could feel your eyes on me the whole time,” she continued. Her eyes sought his and when they locked she could see how dark they had suddenly become.

“I…I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned away from her again, unsure of where to run. 

“Look at me Gendry,” she ordered. It felt strange saying his name out loud. She hadn’t said it in years, but now here she was pleading for him to listen. His head sprung up and his eyes searched hers. He was warring with himself, she had seen that look many times before. It was the same look he gave her when they escaped Harrenhall. The same look he gave her when they left the Brotherhood to seek a new life in Braavos.

“Arya…I…I,” she brought her lips to his in a soft kiss, effectively silencing his mutterings. The kiss was short and sweet and when their lips parted she felt the need itch at her. Kissing had never appealed to her. Men had tried and failed but it was Gendry. Her Gendry, that made her want to try. 

“Ssshhh,” she whispered, before covering her mouth with his again. She felt him move with her and soon felt the warmth of his hands resting firmly on her hips. He pulled her into him and she wrapped her hands at the base of his neck to deepen the kiss. His tongue rolled over her bottom lip, begging her for entrance and she willingly obliged. The strange and new sensation of having his tongue in her mouth caused her to moan wantonly, adding fuel to the already intense burn she was experiencing. “I want you Gendry,” she said unabashed. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” she confessed. Letting the words fall freely.

He cupped her face in his hands and leaned his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that,” he panted before attacking her lips with his. It was more frantic this time, her tongue battling his for dominance. She could feel him smile against her and only smiled in return when she won control. He pulled away from her momentarily, then continued to press soft kisses down her jawline and to the crook of her neck. He sucked on the pulse point just beneath her ear and she felt her knees buckle at the ecstasy that took over her body. In her blissful state she was caught unawares as Gendry flipped their positions so she was now pressed up against the wall. 

“Do you like that milady?” his voice hoarse and deep, sending shivers through her.

Yes, she wanted to scream but all she could manage was a barely audible hum, as she let the sensations take hold. She had lost control of her body, and as Gendry peppered hungry kisses lower and lower, she felt her feet start to rise off the ground. _Am I floating?_ She thought, but soon found that Gendry had lifted her with ease. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, gasping as she felt his arousal press into her centre. He released a loud groan at the contact and brought his face back to hers.

“Seven Hells,” he growled, his eyes never leaving hers. “Arya, I…we...shouldn’t…you’re a lady,” he huffed. He made a move to place her back down and pull away from her, but she strengthened her grip on him, letting him know what she wanted. “I’m just a bastard,” he whispered. 

She stroked his cheek with her thumb, urging him to look at her. He took the hint, blue meeting grey. “I don’t care if you’re a bastard Gendry. Some of the best men I know are bastards and you’re better than any stupid lord. Anyways haven’t I told you already, I’m not a lady.” She leaned into him again, their lips colliding in a fit of passion. 

**Gendry**

His mind was spinning and his heart pounding profusely. She was here, biting, scratching and sucking at him with such a ferocious need that he felt like it was all a dream. He had imagined this so many times in his head, but the feel of her hot skin against his, and the sweet taste of her mouth was so much better than he could have ever hoped. His hands roamed her body greedily, moving at their own accord until they rested firmly at the base of her perfectly toned bottom. Keeping a firm hold, he pressed her small frame further into his and backed away from the wall. His head was screaming for him to stop but his body was doing the complete opposite. She had told him she wanted him. She had confessed how she had always wanted him. It had filled his heart with so much joy that he was sure it would burst right out of his chest. This girl, nay woman, before him had made him feel a happiness he didn’t think possible. He bumped into the side of the anvil in his haste to lay her down on his cot. The pain was quickly ignored but it didn’t stop her from breaking the contact of their lips to eye him curiously. “In a hurry to get rid of me so easily?” she teased.

“No, milady,” he replied sternly. “Only in a hurry to take off those clothes of yours,” he finished boldly. He spun them around so he could see where he was going, and stalked towards the small cot he called his own. It may not have been some fancy featherbed most high born women were used to but it was his. After living most of his life in poverty, with nothing to call his own save the clothes on his back and the bulls helm he had crafted as a young man, he had been able to build a new life for himself in Braavos. In truth he had done it to prove that he was worthy of her. She laughed heartedly at his expense, his eagerness evident on his face. 

“My, oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move so fast before,” she chuckled. 

“You talk too much milady,” he said before gently lowering her onto the bed and once again claiming her mouth with his. She let him lead this time and his hands trailed down to the hem of her shirt, lifting it so he could feel the soft flesh beneath. She whimpered at his touch, which only urged him to continue to let his hands explore. They travelled upwards, his fingers sitting directly under her breasts. She surprised him, by placing her hand over his and pushing them all the way up. His thumb circled her nipples, teasing and tweaking them until they stiffened. Lifting her up with him he swiftly removed her tunic, leaving her half naked. “You’re so beautiful Arya,” he professed. He could see her blush, which only made her look more radiant. He lowered his head, his eyes focused on hers and replaced his fingers with his tongue. Starting with the left, he let it glide over her nipple while his hand massaged and kneaded the other. Her breathing became erratic as did his as he continued to lap at the globes before him.

“Sooo…good,” she wailed. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” Her nails raked through his hair and he noticed how her eyes shot open as he began to lick his way down her taut figure. “What are you-” he tugged at her breeches rendering her speechless, sliding them over her smooth legs. Licking his lips, he looked back at her, asking permission to continue. She raised a hand to caress his cheek, giving him the answer he needed to keep going. Hooking his thumbs around the thin fabric he drew her small clothes off her. The neat crown of curls glistened in the candlelight, her wetness clearly visible. “Oh,” she breathed, as he slid a finger against her entrance. He groaned in return, his bulge pressing hard against his pants. “Mooorree,” she begged. Her hips canting upwards, seeking a harder touch. 

“As milady commands,” he said cheekily before parting her folds with his fingers and flicking his tongue inside her. She screamed with delight, muttering incoherent mumblings as he continued to fuck her with his tongue. One of his fingers soon joined, the two working in unison, pumping in and out. It was slow at first but then the tempo hastened when she began rolling her hips. A second finger soon joined the first, and then a third. She tasted of honey, a sweetness most would not associate with the foul mouthed girl sprawled nude below him. He could feel her walls clench around him and after a few more pumps she rode out her climax, leaving Gendry to drink from her voraciously. 

He propped himself up, wiping his mouth with his tunic. Her chest was rising irregularly as she tried to gain control of her breathing but it was the smile she gave him that took his breath away. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked quizzically, cocking her head to the side. 

“I’m just admiring your beauty,” he said like it was the only logical answer.

“Shut up stupid,” she replied, punching him in the arm and turning her face away.

“Why do you think so little of yourself? You’re beautiful Arya and I’ll tell you every second of every day, even if it means I’ll be bloodied and blue by the end of it.” He saw a tear roll down her cheek and he wiped it away.

“I…I don’t know what you see in me,” she confessed.

“And I’m supposed to be the stupid one,” he smirked. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember Arya. I love that you speak your mind and that you run around in mens clothes. I love that you fight better than most men and that you don’t care for the finer things in life. But the thing I love about you the most is the way you make me feel. I love the way your smile helps me forget the horrible things that have happened in my life and how for the first time I know what it feels like to not be alone. I love you Arya Stark, you and only you.”

“I love you too,” she laughed as the tears continued to stream down her face. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve loved you, you stupid bull.”

“Only you could insult me and compliment me at the same time,” he mused.

“And only you, will ever warm my bed at night,” she countered. “Take my maidenhead Gendry,” she whispered.

“Arya…I,”

“Please,” she pleaded. “I’ve wanted you for so long now Gendry.”

He couldn’t deny her. He never could. He lifted his tunic over his head, tossing it on the floor beside their bed. Kicking of his boots he began to unlace his breeches before peeling them off his legs. Quickly discarding his small clothes he stood before her stark naked and let her eyes rove over him. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt her curious fingers survey his form. They raked along his arms and chest, then travelled down to his defined abdomen. His mouth was suddenly dry and he grunted as he felt her small hands work at his stiff cock. He shivered involuntarily as her hold on his staff tightened. His mouth found one of her exposed breasts and sucked and licked at it to contain his groans of pleasure. He wouldn’t last long at this rate and soon his fingers once again worked their way back down to her sopping wet cunt. Driving them in and out, he stretched her opening, trying to make what was about to come next as pain free as possible. “Please, Gendry,” she begged again. There was no use delaying it any longer. He would just have to be gentle with her, to make sure her first time wasn’t regrettable. 

He positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his member pressed against her clit. He gradually pushed himself into her. She was unbelievably tight, warm, wet and just perfect. He could feel her tense, as her body tried to accept the rude intrusion that was forcing its way into her. “Just relax Arya,” he murmured into her ear before sucking at the pulse point on her neck that he knew she loved. Easing himself in, he felt the thin layer of her maidenhead tear, earning a painful cry from her. “I’m sorry Arya,” he grunted. He knew she was uncomfortable and in pain and wanted nothing more for her to feel the same pleasure he was feeling. “We can stop if you want?” 

She shook her head violently. “No, just give me a minute,” she croaked. He stilled his movements, his eyes searching hers for the ok to continue. He was taken aback when she instead began to roll her hips against his, encouraging him to move. At a torturously slow pace he pulled out of her then pushed back in. “Kiss me,” she demanded and his lips captured hers. She sucked on his tongue as he continued to withdraw then pump back into her. Soon her un-practiced movements found a rhythm with his. They moved together like one, her hisses of pain turning to cries of delight. Her nails were clawing at him like the cat she claimed to be but he could only feel more aroused by the sensation and continued to buck into her. 

Their bodies were riddled with sweat, the heat from their love making and the fire in the forge coating their skin in perspiration. He was lost in her. Lost in the sounds that escaped her sweet plump lips. Lost in the feel of her unbarred body slick against his and lost in the grey that seemed so intent on staring into his blue. The walls of her sex began to clamp down around him, squeezing him and begging him for his release. He watched in awe as she rode out her orgasm, biting her lip so hard it bled. He followed soon after, his seed seeping into her and rushing out of him like a man on fire. He rolled off the top of her and lay by her side, pulling her into him and encasing her in his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder and rested his hands around the front of her stomach. “Thank you,” she said delicately.

He turned her face so he could look into those startling eyes of hers. “What for?” he asked confused.

“For not leaving me,” she said truthfully. “For making me whole again,” she finished. He kissed her sweetly, not realising the tears he shed from happiness at her words. “What’s wrong?” concerned etched in her voice.

“Nothing’s wrong Arya,” he smiled, brushing a piece of hair away from her forehead. “For the first time in a long time everything is perfect.”


End file.
